This Just In!! (Actually, one year from now…) Caitlyn Jenner has been found! The most notorious kidnapping case in California history (since Patty Hearst) has come to an end! Earlier today I made contact with Caitlyn, and in a moment I will tell you the story of her year-long ordeal.
But first… you remember how it all started. One year ago, Caitlyn and her “posse” of transgender women friends started off filming Season 3 of “I Am Cait” by getting into a luxury bus and driving away. Then a few hours later the bus was found by the side of the road, all the members of the posse seemingly drugged into unconsciousness, and Caitlyn missing! After that, authorities conducted an intensive search of every country club, spa, high-end nail salon and Gucci store in southern California – without success. Caitlyn could not be found.
Then, a few days ago – acting on a hunch – I confronted Jenny Boylan and – after threatening to read to her from Donald Trump’s Art of the Deal – she broke down and spilled her guts. Here’s what she told me:
“The trip started out okay, but it didn’t take long for Caitlyn to start in with her privileged, entitled whining about how ordinary transgender women just don’t understand how Republicans are actually their friends. So right away we started arguing, and Caitlyn said ‘Don’t go there!’ one too many times. Well, all of us just lost it. We turned the bus around and headed for south LA. After arriving, we picked a random street corner – there was a “Donut Time” shop there – and kicked her off the bus. And you know, all of us immediately felt better.”
As a reporter, I had to follow up this lead, so I drove to south LA and parked next to Donut Time. I went in, ordered coffee and a donut with pink icing and sprinkles, and looked around. The only person there was a young, black transgender woman, apparently waiting for someone. So I nervously went up to her and asked if I could sit down and ask her some questions.
In response, she helpfully pointed out that I was a “skanky bitch with no more fashion sense than a motherfuckin fish.” (All true enough, I must admit.) Wishing to get on her good side, I offered to buy her some donuts, which I did. Here is what she told me (her name, by the way, was Sin-Dee):
“So yeah, I know that honky bitch, lazy piece of crap. When she got here, she couldn’t even do her own hair or nails or any of that shit! She was useless! So my friend Alexandra, she been lettin’ her sleep in her room, but she had to get a job. Which was the usual sort of shit job us girls have to get, cause no one will give us any kind of decent job.”
“So this skank started out washing dishes and waiting tables at Burrito Heaven over on Sepulveda. Cause she can’t stay with Alexandra unless she pays some rent, and when she shops for clothes, that clueless honky always pays retail.”
So there I was listening to Sin-Dee when the door to Donut Time opened and a young guy – real chill with lots of tattoos and a hoodie – came in. And with him was another young, black transgender prostitute. Turns out his name was Chester, and with him was Sin-Dee’s friend Alexandra. So I bought donuts and coffee all round.
Chester told me that after a few weeks of observing – from a distance – that extremely tall transgender woman I described, and seeing how his customers looked at her, he decided to add her to his stable of girls. Which he did.
He told me, “She would not shut up with her endless, annoying drama about how she didn’t know ‘whether she was into guys or not,’ so I borrowed a car and took her for a ride through the car wash a couple of times.”
“So finally,” he went on, “the realization hit her what it is that men’ want more than anything. She’s such an airhead, I had to pound it into her head. (And ‘pounding’ is sort of my business.) After that, I started finding dates for her, and she learned what a girl has to do to survive on the streets.”
“She stopped expecting other people to do everything for her, and she started doing things for herself. So now, we call her “Snow White” cause girls don’t come any ‘whiter’ than her, and one day I saw her out front of Donut Time surrounded by several of her admirers from Mexico and Guatemala, and she just reminded me of her.”
Just then, we noticed a large, black, tricked-out Escalade pull up in front, and the passenger door opened… (To Be Continued.)
(This article was published in the April 5, 2016 issue of GRAB Magazine.)